Serpent Heart
by JTDisillusions
Summary: Would you watch the world burn, for all your heart's desires? Before the last battle, Harry would have thrown away anything and everything to save the world. There was no price too great. Not even love. What did love matter when he was prepared to face death. After the war, he wasn't so sure. Maybe he would happy watch the world burn, for all his hearts desires. HP/TMR/Voldmort


A/N: Okay, so this story has been in my computer for a while and i never got past writing this bloody prologue despite having planned out most of the story in terms of plot. And now that i've finally typed the last words of the prologue, hopefully i will be more motivated to write down the rest of this story. I've kind of lost most of my motivation after losing most of my writing after my ipod broke (used to write everything on there while i commute and stuff). anyways hopefully i'll get back to it. :3

Warnings: umm. . . Harry's kind of not all there at least in this chapter (and others).

Slash, m/m, Harry/TMR (Voldemort)

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"Serpent Heart"

_A Harry Potter Fanfiction _

By: _JT Disillusions_

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**Prologue: hearts desires **

_Your heart's desires . . . _

Vivid green eyes stared back at him from the silvery surface, glassy and vacant. They were filled with a chilling emptiness, completely lacking of the usual fire and determination that dance with in their depth.

He hadn't thought that this would be the end. This hollow victory that greeted him after all those hard fought years and hellish nights. It was as if _he_ was determined to torment Harry even now, after all this time. Just the mere thought brought ghostly apparitions of the past to the surface; how his presence caused scorching fire to race across his skin and now his absence chilled Harry to the bone and stilled his very heart.

_. . . you can have them all. _

A mirthless laugh filled the air. It took a moment for Harry to realize that the desolate sound came from his throat. _It would seem_, Harry mused that he still contained the ability to surprise himself. Lifting his hands, Harry moved to trace the outline in the mirror, outlining the contours of the blurry figure. For a moment, Harry found himself back in the haze of the past, surrounded by blithe laughter and warmth that can only come from being loved by family and friends alike. But, the soft warmth of distant memories had no hope of countering the barren ice lands that his core had become and all too soon Harry found himself pulled away from his receding memories.

Once more, Harry became painfully aware of the bleak world that he resided in and was suddenly all too aware of the spreading cold. He was so cold. For a moment Harry allowed the frantic shouts leaking from the other side of the door to reach him, hoping that familiar voices would warm him however brief the warmth may be.

The warmth never reached him.

Instead the voices turned into the demons that had tormented Harry endlessly since that fateful day. They with their kind words cut into him deeper than any physical blade ever could and bounded him tighter than any physical chains. It was foolish. He had been foolish to believe those honey suckled words, thinking that they would lift him from this torturous emptiness. Instead they had trapped him further in this vexing prison of his own soul with their constant pushing. And Harry, who foolishly believed that each time would be the last, had continued to give. Now Harry sees that he couldn't have been more wrong to give in inch by inch until he was back up to the edge of insanity.

_You can have the world at your feet . . . _

Or perhaps he had already toppled over the edge a long time ago, mused Harry as he turned his attention to intently tracing the contours of the now more solid figure in the mirror. The man in the mirror took away the demons that haunted him and Harry felt a tinge of safety whenever the man appeared in the mirror. It was the dark haired man that blocked out the voices that slipped in from underneath the door and kept the doors from collapsing under the onslaught of the magical spells that rained down upon it. With him, Harry felt a little less empty and truly believed that he could be happy again, but those moments where far in between because almost immediately the cool surface of the mirror would remind him that they were separated by this cruel pane of crystal. Sometimes though Harry would get a flash of anger at the sight of the man causing liquid fire to pump through his veins and in those moments, Harry has an unhinged desire to smash the mirror into smithereens.

_… __and his heart on a silver platter. _

He refrains of course because another part of Harry threatens that this was the only way he could see the man; the only way that Harry could ever even hope to chase away the chills that had seeped into his bones. That and the fact that Harry couldn't bring himself to remember why he was angry at the handsome man in the mirror who smiled so lovingly at Harry.

The man was smiling at Harry again as if pleased by his presence and feathery touches that danced across the silvery surface of the mirror. Caught up in that loving smile, Harry involuntarily moved closer to the mirror until he was pressed up against its cool surface. His hands placed at either sides of the man face as Harry tentatively brought his face to rest against the smooth planes of the mirror. If Harry tried hard enough, he could pretend that what he felt under his cheeks was not that frozen surfaces of the crystal but rather warm and supple flesh.

A sudden explosion of magic jolted Harry out of his trance, pulling his attention to the door that groaned under the onslaught of magic. The runes that decorated the doors pulsed rhythmically with each burst of magic that brushed against the doors, signaling their impending collapse. Behind him the smiling face morphed into one of annoyance and contempt when Harry turned his attention towards those at the door.

Harry could feel the pulsing runes tugging on his magical core, calling out for him to reinforce them. He found himself torn between two warring desires, but in the end the need for isolation won. Reluctantly relinquishing contact with the mirror, Harry picked up the silver dagger lying beside him. Rubies glimmered under the rays of the setting sun as Harry brought it in front of his eyes. Blank eyes stared back at him, eyes that remained unflinching as the sharp edge of the blade slide through the soft skin of his wrist.

_It was warm. _

Vacant eyes glanced down at the crimson liquid that flowed so freely from his wrist. Harry didn't expect his blood to feel warm, not after being submerged in a coldness that pierced his bones.

The warmth of his blood surprised him.

CLANG!

Harry's eyes were glazed as hands moved mechanically across the floor, leaving behind the intricate swirls of an ancient tongue. Behind him, the pulsing of the runes was reaching a feverish pitch. Suddenly stopping, Harry stared at the writing and watched unresponsively as the crimson swirls seeped into the floor. In perfect synchrony, the runes fell silent just as the last swirl faded.

All was silent once more.

Satisfied, Harry returned his glaze back to the man in the mirror. Like before, a gentle smile and warm eyes beckoned him closer. Dark promises danced through the air as Harry returned to his light tracing of the man's face.

_Yes, you will be warm again. . . _

_Loved. _

_Protected. _

_Cherished. _

The next time he was able to separate his own thoughts from the whispers, Harry found himself relying almost entirely on the man in the mirror who cradled him. . .his image in his arms. If he tried hard enough, Harry could feel the gentle movement of long fingers through his hair. He felt so loved, protected and cherished that the coldness was pushed to the very edge of his thoughts. _I never want this to end._

_And you don't have to . . . _

The near absence of the cold that once flowed through his veins left Harry in a weakly lethargic state. He was completely reliant on the hard planes of the mirror behind him. Submerged in a sea numbness, Harry never noticed the sticky wetness that was slowly soaking through the soft cotton of his shirt. Nor did he notice the twisting tendrils of darkness that slowly crawled up waist and arms.

In his numbness, Harry never saw the gentle smile melt away into a possessive dark look that twisted beautiful features and turned glimmering rubies into bottomless coal. Never heard the voices that shouted his name in panic, pain, worship and reverence.

_All you have to do is watch the world burn. . . _

All Harry saw was a gentle smile and all he heard was the whispering of sweet nothings in his ear.

_Your heart's desires, you can have them all. . . All you have to do is watch the world burn._

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Please Read and Review

makes me feel loved 3

I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on this much darker piece of writing.

V


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